My Bloody Valentine
by pinkrosepictures
Summary: An argument between friends, an accident at Baker Street, and a not so bulletproof teddy bear make Molly's wish of  a Valentine s date with Sherlock Holmes  come true - shameless fluff,  cause  we all need more fluff in our lives.


_My very first Sherlock fic! ….and it's Valentine's day fluff, cause that's how I roll._

_- I own nothing - _

"Please don't do that," Sherlock complained dryly before he stepped out of the shadow that the door provided. His day had been long enough, the last thing he needed was Molly Hooper creating completely unnecessary noise. Noise that served to increased the already throbbing pain in his head.

"I'm so sorry. You scared me, I'm not used to company in here. At least not the kind that's alive, " Molly started to ramble, cursing her clumsiness as she bent down to pick up the instruments that were now scattered on the floor. Why did she have to embarrass herself every time he walked in? As if working the nightshift, today of all days, wasn't already enough...

"Stop apologizing," he ordered, sounding almost a little angry, but when Molly looked up again she realized that she had been wrong. It was pain she had detected, not anger.

"You're bleeding!" She observed, dropping the instruments again as she rushed to get up to take a closer look at the cut above his right eyebrow.

"Great deduc..." He cringed, hoping that this had been the last time that he had to endure the sound of Molly's instruments scattering on the floor.

"What happened?" Molly asked, not bothering to apologize another time.

"I need stitches," Sherlock explained ignoring her question.

"I can see that, but maybe you should go upstairs to A&E, I mean, I'm a pathologist, I don't think I..."

"Molly?" He interrupted her.

"Yes?"

"Try not to mess this up, I don't want a scar."

"Okay," Molly simply nodded as Sherlock took off his coat and sat down on the empty autopsy table.

–––––––––––

"...done," with that Molly put a band aid over the cut on Sherlock's forehead.

"Thank you," he flinched slightly at the touch.

"I'm sorry..." Molly immediately apologized.

"Don't, it's not like you did this to me."

"Do you want to tell me who did?" She tried again, but didn't get an answer.

"Rough case?" This time he just rolled his eyes, annoyed by her amateur interrogation.

"Why did you come here?" Maybe changing the question would get her some answers.

"I needed medical attention, you are a doctor."

"Yes, but you also live with one. Wasn't John around?"

"John..." he just snorted. "If it wasn't for the good doctor, I wouldn't need you right now."

"Wait, did he hit you?" Molly blurted out.

"Don't be ridiculous. We had a fight, well John was fighting I was just trying to reason with him."

"Of course you were."

"I was distracted, tripped over my dressing gown and hit my head on the table." He explained. "And I didn't want someone who is worked up from an argument operating on my face," he added before Molly could ask why John hadn't fixed up the wound at Baker Street.

"I see," Molly nodded, trying not to laugh, but of course Sherlock noticed her amused state.

"Molly Hooper, what is so funny about a head wound?"

"The great Sherlock Holmes, fighting the scariest criminals of the world on a daily basis, assaulted by his own dressing gown."

"Let's just hope this doesn't end up on John's blog," he laughed – a sound that Molly wasn't used to, but she definitely liked it.

"Do you want to hang out for a little?" She suddenly asked, surprised about her own courage. "I can make tea. I mean, I...you might have a concussion, you shouldn't walk around all alone..."

"Tea would be nice," he interrupted her to save her – and himself – from further ramblings.

"I'll be right back," she replied with a smile before she left the room.

Five minutes later Molly came back with two cups of tea, a plate with biscuits and an icepack.

"For your head," she handed Sherlock, who was still seated on the table, the icepack and one of the cups, before she put the plate down beside him and lifted herself up to the table to join him.

"Interesting," he observed.

"What?"

"The biscuits, little hearts." Sherlock replied.

"Oh ya, it's Valentine's Day," Molly explained, her usual shy smile curving her lips as she blushed a little.

"I'm aware of that, but you seem to be less enthusiastic about it than John. He wouldn't let me forget. You on the other hand didn't mention it once until just now, but you are serving me heart shaped biscuits. Pink biscuits, obviously homemade, so maybe you do care more the holiday than I thought, " he picked one up to examine the frosting.

"I make them every year, even if I'm not doing any..." she started but was suddenly hit by another thought. "Wait, was that what you two were fighting about? Valentine's day?"

"John refused to cancel his plans, even though I needed help with an experiment. So I used the stupid teddy bear he bought for his date. He didn't take it so well. John I mean, the bear can be fixed."

"Did you at least apologize?" Molly asked.

"It is not my fault that the bear wasn't bulletproof."

"I see, well I guess you got what you deserve," Molly joked.

"I'm gonna ignore that and thank you for the pink biscuits."

"Anytime," Molly replied with a smile, as she watched Sherlock take a bite of her Valentine's Day treat. If someone had told Molly Hooper that taking the night shift on Valentine's Day would end with her enjoying a cup of tea on an autopsy table with Sherlock Holmes, she would have called them crazy. But the man by her side never failed to surprise her. Yes Sherlock Holmes was spending Valentine's day with Molly Hooper, even if it took gunshots, destroyed teddy bears and head wounds to get there.

xoxoxoxoxoxo

_Happy Valentine's Day! _

_I hope you enjoyed this little fluff piece - sorry for the cavities, I tried to balance the sweetness out with the dead teddy bear! Really! _

_I prefer reviews over chocolate ;)_

_Love, Laura _


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